


Sweet Vermouth

by thecurlyginger



Category: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)
Genre: F/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Season/Series 03 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:26:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24545362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecurlyginger/pseuds/thecurlyginger
Summary: "Midge tried not to ask herself what she was doing at this hour about to knock on a man’s door – a man whose standing with her was unknown at the moment – because if she lingered on that question, she might lose the nerve."
Relationships: Lenny Bruce & Miriam "Midge" Maisel, Lenny Bruce (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel)/Miriam "Midge" Maisel
Comments: 29
Kudos: 158





	Sweet Vermouth

Midge needed a few things: She needed a drink, she needed to learn how to filter her god damned mouth, and she needed to know if college kids were starting to look younger these days, or was she just starting to look old?

Her flats, because she knew better from her B. Altman days, led her through Washington Square Park, past the NYU students who all looked like babies… if babies could smoke Winston’s while nursing a bottle of beer after a dorm party. That joke needed work.

Lots of her jokes needed work these days.

As she weaved through the throngs of buzzed kids annoying the rest of the East Villagers just trying to get home, Midge tried not to ask herself what she was doing at this hour about to knock on a man’s door – a man whose standing with her was unknown at the moment – because if she lingered on that question, she might lose the nerve.

The door leading into the building was open. She checked the crooked numbers against the scrawled handwriting of her note before entering and ascending the stairs. On a different night, she might preemptively pat the sweat forming at her temples from climbing the three flights, reapply her lipstick, or rub the crease under her eyes for any stray mascara, but Midge Maisel had just been kicked off of Shy Baldwin’s tour, and she needed to talk to the only man who could calm her. So with puffy eyes and splotched cheeks, slightly panting breath, and her heart pounding in her ears, she knocked on the apartment door before her.

After a few moments that could have been centuries (she never claimed to be a reliable narrator), it opened.

The man at the door was in his thirties, looking like he had just come back in for the night and was getting comfortable, with his tie loosened around his neck and his sock-covered feet poking out from his pants. He appeared confused, but not entirely unfriendly – just apprehensive like every other New Yorker when a stranger knocks on their door.

“Who the hell are you?” Midge asked, pulling her note out again to compare apartment numbers.

“You’re the one who knocked,” the stranger replied. “Who the hell are you?”

Crossing her arms, Midge finally said, “I’m looking for Lenny.”

The man before her softened a little but didn’t budge from his place in the doorway. “He’s not here.”

“Do you know where I can find him?”

“He didn’t say he was expecting anyone.”

“Well, where’s the fun in that?” Midge joked, but he didn’t find the humor. “I’m a friend,” she clarified, “and I was hoping to talk with him.”

He stepped back into the apartment, leaving Midge miffed. She was about to turn around and leave when she heard him dialing the rotary, so she stepped closer to the door, hoping to hear part of the muffled conversation. The words “pale,” “dark hair,” and “if you like that sort of thing,” came through, so she knocked on the door.

“Tell him it’s his wife… or maybe his sister!” An older neighbor wearing a cross passed Midge down the hallway, giving her a dirty look. “Sorry ma’am, it’s a Jewish thing; you wouldn’t understand.”

Just as Midge turned back toward the door, it opened, the man taken aback by how close she stood. She guiltily moved away, but he tipped his head toward the inside of the apartment.

She followed him in hesitantly, taking in the small space. There was a couch and a television set just inside the door, and to the right, a bookshelf packed to the gills. The bare kitchen displayed scarcely a pot or pan, leaving alone the lack of décor to adorn the walls or hallway that likely led to the washroom and bedroom.

“He’s on the line for you,” the man said, gesturing to the phone resting on the couch arm, and with haste, she walked over and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Tell me something funny so I know it’s you,” Lenny’s voice reverberated through the handset, his humor ever present despite the lack of visual cue, like the smirk or quirked eyebrow that usually told Midge she had his captive audience.

She hummed, giving the living room a once over. “If only you had a photo album around; I’m sure I could find something funny to say about your Bar Mitzvah photos. Though you seem a little more dignified than to have been one of those boys who said the Kiddush, had a sip of Manischewitz, and felt emboldened enough to feel up your crush. There’s a definitely a photo in Gabe Rosenthal’s album of that exact thing happening.”

“And did you like it?” Lenny asked, giving her the space for the set up.

“Did I like when a 13 year old boy touched my tits last month? Well, legally I’m supposed to say no, but I’m a divorced woman and that’s the most action I’ve gotten in months.”

Lenny’s laugh elicited a smile from Midge so bright her cheeks hurt, but the loud guffaw in the room reminded her she wasn’t alone.

“Can you tell your goon you know me?” She asked, eying the guy. “Or at least tell him the cover; I don’t perform for free anymore.”

“Ah yes,” Lenny said, his voice strained from what sounded like him moving to sit or lay down in a different position, “I forgot _just_ the caliber of comic you are. No time for the little people anymore. Johnny’s an aspiring comedian from Jersey – I let him stay at my place when I’m out of town. Saves him time and money on the commute and keeps the weirdo’s out.”

Midge turned in Johnny’s direction. “Well, I’m here, so he’s clearly slipping up tonight. I’d offer you some advice, Johnny, but my career’s in and out of the toilet so much it’s like the plunger at the Gaslight; only now, I think it’s finally stuck in there.”

A sigh sounded through the phone. “Hand him the line, will ya Midge?”

Wordlessly, she waved the receiver at Johnny, taking a step back. Midge gazed over the bookshelf, noting the literature mixed in with politic manifestos, rally pamphlets scattered among religious texts, and a picture frame tucked in, revealing a photo of an older woman, likely Lenny’s mother. The occasional “Uh huh,” and “Sure thing, Lenny” sounded behind her before Johnny cleared his throat, drawing her attention.

“I’ll be out in just a few; nice to meet you Mrs. Maisel,” he said, handing the phone back.

Midge took it, offering him a nod and a small, though genuine, smile. “Good luck, Johnny.” She then placed the phone back to her ear. “See? I am capable of niceties. What did you tell him?”

“I told him where I hid some extra cash so he could stay elsewhere for the night. Something tells me you’ve got a lot to unload, Mrs. M.” Lenny’s voice sounded a little muffled, but the click of a lighter cleared her confusion. “I’d offer a smoke, but as badly as it sounds like you need one, the trip to Boston’s not worth it.”

The door behind her opened and closed, signaling Johnny’s departure. Feeling a little more at ease in with privacy, Midge shed her coat and stretched the phone line so she could sit on the couch.

“Boston? You finally off to Harvard for an education for a real job?”

“I had some gigs, which _would_ be considered work, but the way they drink beer out here like its water makes it too easy. Stop changing the subject, and tell me what happened.” His voice had a genuine, even caring, air.

“You said Johnny wants to be a comedian? He didn’t seem very funny,” Midge tossed back, crossing one leg over the other.

Lenny let out a breathy chuckle, one that she knew would have been paired with a shrug and a raise of his hands were the two of them not separated by a phone and a few hundred miles. “You didn’t seem very funny either when they threw you in the cop car next to me. Stop changing the subject.”

“Can you afford this collect call?” She could acknowledge she was being difficult, likely bordering annoying, but their banter helped her shitty mood.

“I’ll charge it to Johnny. He can afford it with all the money he’s saving ‘cause of me. Now _Miriam_ , you come knocking on my door late at night, likely stirring up all kinds of rumors – which I am truly grateful for because I couldn’t afford that kind of generous gossip with what I’m making here – going on about how you’re already a washed up comic. Tell me what’s going on.”

The desperation in Lenny’s voice to hear her truth, to actually _hear_ her and not dismiss her like her parents would or brush her emotions aside in the name of a professional relationship like Susie would, cracked through Midge’s protective barrier. Her throat felt tight as she tried to swallow, the wound still fresh.

“I almost outed Shy.” Saying the words out loud made her heart drop and her eyes sting. “He trusted me with his truth, something his band doesn’t even know about him, and I alluded to it on stage to the entire Apollo Theater, endangering his career, his _life_. What kind of colleague does that make me? What kind of self-respecting Jew does that make me, Lenny?

“My father would think I was weak for doing something so low for self preservation. And I was! I saw a crowd of people I couldn’t immediately relate to, and picked the lowest hanging fruit to save myself.”

“Midge—“

“ _You_ tell the truths people are afraid to say, the truths people are afraid to hear. _You_ go on stage to make a difference for freedom of expression… And I used my platform to—“

“Miriam, middle name unknown, Weissman, just _stop_.” Lenny’s voice cut through her, freeing the tears even as she gurgled a laugh to stop her outward sobbing so he could speak. “You fucked up. There. I’m saying it; I’m recognizing it. You fucked up, and you _know_ you fucked up. But you did it once. You didn’t build your career on tearing the oppressed down; you’ve built it on giving a voice to women, opening up the conversation about femininity and sex from the woman’s perspective. Is this a setback? Sure. Is it insurmountable? You’ve made rooms in Vegas and Miami _roar_ with laughter. You will work again.”

Midge let out a shaky breath. “I don’t want to get blackballed again, Lenny.”

“You said it yourself, outing Shy could ruin his career. They’ll never say that’s why they dropped you. They’ll cite creative differences or some bullshit that’ll make it harder for your to book gigs but not impossible.” Despite the logic and firm reasoning, his voice sounded soft and comforting. “Now, I have an important question for you, Midge.”

“Yeah?”

“How the hell did you get my address?” His mirth put her at ease, reminding her of why she dragged herself down to the Village from Susie’s after dropping off her luggage.

Why she wasn’t in her apartment, facing her parents, or with Joel, seeking a comfort she knew was lost even before their drunken Vegas marriage.

She twirled the phone cord around her finger. “You know, if you had a super in Miami instead of a hotel receptionist, your forwarding address wouldn’t be up for grabs.”

* * *

Lenny promised his return in a week and a half after finishing his shows in Boston and a few obligations in Chicago. He insisted she didn’t have to pay him for the call, Johnny’s hotel stay, or cleaning the couch she slept on, but she didn’t want his generosity to go unmatched.

_“I’ll do you the favor of looking very satisfied when I leave, you know, to keep up the gossip.”_

_“Don’t look too smug, or else it won’t be believable.”_

_“And here I was, about to walk a little bow-legged too.”_

_“Ah, then they’ll all know you’re full of shit.”_

_“You’d sell yourself short like that, Mr. Bruce?”_

Midge recalled the conversation even days later as she unpacked her bags in the apartment, trying not to let Moishe’s threat of finding steady work by the end of the month or else he rescind their deal bother her. Her boldness over the phone still made her flush, though not more than Lenny’s reply had.

_“You’d better not wait too long before I’m dead to find out then, Upper West Side.”_

Lenny had an affect on her since their night together in Miami, her thoughts drifting to the way his hand held her arm as they danced, her head resting against his shoulder. They may have defined their entire friendship (if you could call it that) with playful banter, but their _silence_ as they stared at one another spoke in volumes. His dark eyes never roamed over her body at the club or in the doorway of his hotel room, but rather searched her eyes for answers. For permission? Salvation?

Midge wasn’t left wanting like a college girl. She was left _needing_ , lust washing over her in waves at night as she thought about what would have happened if she kissed him, pulling him inside by his black tie, and closed the door behind them. Would he be quiet as they made love, observant as he is want to be, or would he fill the silence with jokes and commentary? Would he kiss her slowly and take his time, or would he claim her swiftly and passionately?

Those questions embodied her fantasies for more nights than she cared to admit, yet the question that would follow after she pulled the covers over her sweat-drenched body, her skin vibrating from a powerful orgasm, brought her back to reality.

Would he understand her reluctance from that night?

By the time Lenny called, announcing his arrival back in New York and inviting her for a drink, she had performed twice to enthusiastic audiences, reaffirming his words that her career would go on. Susie admitted there was some difficulty booking gigs, caused mostly by assumptions regarding Midge’s sudden open availability, but a call to Angie in Vegas led to what Susie called “some pretty fucking promising leads.”

With promise in her future, when Lenny proposed drinks, Midge offered dinner instead.

Though she was on time for once, Lenny had still beaten her there, standing to greet her warmly with a kiss on her cheek and pulling out her chair. Midge hoped the dim lighting would hide her blush as he sat across from her, clad in his usual black suit and tie that framed his lean form so well. If it ain’t broke…

Before she could say anything, he leaned in for a mock whisper. “Quick, the waiter’s coming, and I don’t want to be a putz . Should I order a drink for you, or is that assumptive and rude?”

Midge tried to keep a straight face for his behalf but felt her eyes crinkle and a smirk break free. “That all depends on if you order correctly.”

“A gin martini with as many olives as you can fit in the glass for the lady, and a Manhattan for me, no extra orange peel or I will make the mistake of eating it, _again_. Thank you, sir.”

The waiter nodded and left, and Lenny leaned forward once more. Midge followed suit, expecting whispered judgment or gossip.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” Her heart raced at his soft words, but his hilarious show of nodding at their muted exchange and sitting back up as if he had just offered her the rumor of the decade helped cover the impact of his compliment. “Did I do okay? With your martini?”

“So far, so good on the drink front. But how was Chicago? What is there to do in Chicago? What even _is_ Chicago?” Midge asked, eliciting an amused grin from him.

“Would you believe I went to the Playboy Mansion?”

Lenny hushed the last two words out of decency, which was more than Midge could say, as she blurted out, “What?! Are there really naked women just walking around?”

A few eyes darted toward their direction but looked away after Lenny shrugged to them in apology. Midge thought to vocalize a similar gesture but didn’t want their dinner to become the spectacular Lenny Bruce and Mrs. Maisel show, so she backed down, choosing to respectfully listen to his response.

“I’ll have you know I avoided the grotto at all costs… I can’t handle that humidity.”

They pulled their heads upward to receive their cocktails and order a couple of appetizers before ducking back down to finish the salacious conversation.

“In all seriousness, I was interviewed for the magazine, met Hef—“

“Lenny, you’re calling him ‘ _Hef_.’ This is incredible!”

“And he’s showing me around the place, all the game rooms and libraries, when we pass by a row of offices where his secretaries and office girls work. That’s where I spotted, hanging on the doorframe, a mezuzah. A religious symbol like that, just minding its business, seeing more naked women in a day than most guys do at a peep show. I think it’s wonderful.”

He leaned back in his chair, taking a sip from his drink. His cadence on “wonderful” sent Midge reeling, reminded by the way he had said “sensational” when describing her set.

“What? Do you disagree?” Lenny asked, stirring her from her reverie.

Midge’s lip quirked as she regarded him. “I think there is something to say about being religious _and_ being free about sex. I just can’t believe you went to the god damn Playboy Mansion and you’re talking about mezuzahs.”

“My mother would be proud.”

As she pulled her drink to her lips, taking a slow sip, she took the opportunity to watch him swirl the contents of his around the glass, the ice cube clinking against the sides.

“Why a Manhattan and not an Old Fashioned?” Midge asked.

Lenny looked at the cocktail in question, shrugging slightly. “A Manhattan’s got sweet vermouth. It’s a little less saccharine than the straight sugar in an Old Fashioned, a little more bitter and complex. You take it in slower,” he said.

“Is that supposed to be symbolic?”

He watched her, the glass in her hand halfway between the table and her mouth stilling under his scrutiny. Midge wondered if he could read her nervousness at openly treading the fine line between them in high heels, her balance becoming more and more precarious.

“It could be,” he began. “Symbolism is manipulative that way.”

Before Lenny could delve any deeper, the waiter returned with their appetizers and took their orders.

“Here, I’ll tell you what,” Midge said, pausing to take a bite, “you keep telling me about your travels so I can eat all of this.”

“You are a temptress, Miriam. Promising me food then taking it away in favor for my next favorite thing, talking.”

A full meal and two more drinks each later, the pair took the cue of the restaurant staff turning over chairs to leave. Lenny beheld her with surprise as he watched her claim her coat near the entrance.

“You actually own one of those? Why do I keep offering you mine?”

Midge scoffed in mock offense as he held the door open for her, stepping out into the cool air. “Because you’re a gentleman.”

“Thank goodness, too, because my jacket smelled like you for days. Drove me nuts,” he said with his usual intonation, but the words clutched at her chest.

She stepped toward him, looking up at his small smile and finding the same tenderness in his eyes that she could recall from Miami.

“Lenny, I—“

“I don’t think you’re sweet vermouth, Midge,” he interrupted, his sincerity making the entire New York street beyond them still. “I think you’re the ice. You take the edge off things and make the world a little more palatable. No one wants a drink without the ice. You’re a jolt of cool air; you brighten up any room that you’re in… I don’t want my world to not have you in it, so if that means we take a step back after Miami, so be it.”

Midge placed her hand on his chest, signaling her desire to speak.

“Just answer me this, Lenny.” Off his nod, she continued, “Is it better if I kiss you now, or when we get to your place?”

He took a step back to hail the oncoming cab before leaning in close to her ear. “I’m only saying we should wait because dinner wasn’t cheap, and you can’t afford paying off the cab driver if you get me started now.”

Unable to contain her laughter, Midge followed him into the cab, emitting the occasional giggle as they periodically locked eyes, even as they sat wordlessly with their hands clasped on their way downtown, Lenny’s thumb stroking her knuckle.

Once the driver pulled up to his building, Lenny paid him the fare before exiting the cab and opening the door for her. His large hand grasped hers gently as he helped her out of the car and led her up the stairs. The trek proved more difficult in heels than her first ascent those few days ago, but she didn’t protest the slight rush to Lenny’s pace.

He had walked her to his hotel room in Miami – _his_ outward intentions were always clear – but his confession outside the restaurant provided her some of the validation she needed. The thought that she had given him the idea that they needed to a step back after that night, though, meant that her intentions weren’t.

Lenny reached for the key in his pocket once they scaled the final step, taking the last few purposeful strides with Midge in tow. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, searching her eyes once more for her answer. Huffing, she stepped through the threshold with an annoyed, albeit humored, air.

“I made it in this time,” she teased. “And the coat’s coming off, so you know I’m not running away.” To prove her point, Midge peeled the coat from her shoulders and placed it on the plain coatrack near the door. “Shoes are coming off too, though that’s more because they’re meant to get from cab, to restaurant, to cab – and comfort up three flights of stairs was _not_ part of the sales pitch.”

Lenny closed the door, closing some of the space between them in the process. Sighing despite the incredulous smile on his face from her neat display of straightening her shoes near the rack, he slowly reached for her. “Midge, you don’t have to explain yourself for that night. It was more fun than I had in a long time; I never thought you owed me or robbed me of anything.”

“I _have_ needed to say something, though, because it’s all I’ve been thinking about for months.”

Lenny’s eyes widened a bit at that confession but remained silent.

Midge continued. “Before we met in Miami, a friend gave me a pep talk about one night stands. _No_ ,” she responded off his raised eyebrow, “I didn’t have one, but she laid out the basics: cleanliness being a deal breaker, and don’t get emotionally involved if it’s with someone in the band.”

She stepped away from Lenny, feeling the need to pace as if she were on stage, laying out an elaborate joke. “I thought, ‘Hey, that sounds promising. Now I can finally get some without feeling like it’s supposed to be with husband material. You know the type, a guy with an uncomfortably close relationship with his mother who expects a brisket on the table and for me to privately go to exercise class so I look as good as I did on our wedding night but without sweating in front of him.’”

“If you cooked a leaner cut than brisket, you wouldn’t have to exercise as—“ Lenny eased off at the sight of Midge’s death glare, raised his hands in defense, then gestured for her to continue.

“But then we had the most amazing night together, talking and performing, dancing and _not_ performing for once. Your room was clean, which normally I would credit the housekeepers with but this apartment isn’t in as bad of shape as I could have imagined for someone such as yourself.”

“I think I’m supposed to say ‘thank you’ to that.”

Midge, feeling satisfied with her tale thus far, returned to his side, tilting her head upward to meet his gaze. Without her heels, he towered over her. During her spiel, he had taken off his coat and jacket while never taking his dark eyes off of her, and they remained glued to her now.

“But in a way, you’re ‘in the band.’ We’re in the same circles, running into each other no matter what city we’re in, no matter what shitty day we’ve had. Half the scene here thinks we’ve already done it, and we could have in Miami without anyone being the wiser, except…”

Her throat felt tight again, her nerves betraying her when she was so god damn close to the finish line. Could he see her pulse threatening to burst from her neck?

Taking a deep breath, Midge finally managed the words. “There _are_ emotions involved, Lenny. I left that night because I couldn’t bear us just being two passing ships. I was scared that if I spent the night, we’d part ways and wouldn’t be able to go back to the moment before I stepped through that threshold, back to bailing each other out and umbrellas and to an odd amount of joking if I’m your wife or your blood relative. Was I wrong?”

Lenny’s hands reached out for her arms, his warmth seeping into her, goose bumps threatening to pebble her pale skin. “You were right; we’d never be able to go back. We’d be bailing each other out and showing up at each other’s gigs when we’re in town, but with something else to do in the down time... That sounded a little filthy, I apologize,” he added with a shrug. “What I mean is that it’s not one and done with us, Midge. I meant what I said earlier. I didn’t know this old bag of bones could feel anything anymore, but when you’re near, there’s a gravitational pull. And no matter what comes of it, I’ll always expect you to post my bail.”

“So romantic,” she sighed, feigning a faint.

“Now, I know I said you didn’t owe me anything, but you promised to kiss me earlier, and I’m dying here.“

Midge reached up on her toes and pressed her lips against his, feeling his hands gently tighten their grasp on her arms before both moved to cup her face as he deepened the kiss. Lenny’s tongue grazed her upper lip, sending a hot jolt up her spine. Her toes curled, and she wrapped her arms around him.

Then she pulled her face back, their still bodies tantalizingly close, and Midge asked breathlessly, “Better?”

“A little,” he teased as he tucked a stray hair behind her ear, making her shiver. Lenny raised his eyebrow at that physical response, and took the opportunity to lean in. Just as Midge thought his lips sought her own, he turned to kiss her cheek, moving his scorching mouth down to her neck, and then a trail up toward her ear, his hot breath making her gasp and melt into his arms.

“I thought you were a gentleman,” Midge sighed as he continued his delicious torture, taking her earlobe into her mouth and teasing it ever so softly with his teeth.

“Who says I’m not? Actually, don’t answer that,” he said before returning his attention back to her lips and kissing her senseless once more.

Pressing her hands against his chest, Midge drew away. “If you keep doing that, my legs will actually turn to Jell-O, so I suggest the _gentleman_ takes the lady to somewhere she can turn to Jell-O comfortably.”

Lenny pulled her arms to bring her back in for another resounding kiss then lead the way down the hall to his bedroom. It similarly lacked décor, but had a bed that was somewhat made. Most importantly, it not only held Midge’s weight as she sat on the edge but Lenny’s too as he joined her side and claimed her mouth once more with his.

Midge’s arm reached behind her to pull the zipper to her dress down, but his hands soon overtook that responsibility, so she settled with loosening his tie. They broke the kiss so she could pull it over his head and toss it aside, and she used the opportunity to stand so her dress could join it, pooling to the floor.

“Holy hell, Midge, get back here,” Lenny said at the sight of her in her undergarments before he pulled her onto his lap.

Each of their hands exuded deftness as they made quick work of the other’s clothing, Midge unbuttoning his shirt then pulling it and his undershirt out from the waistband of his pants while Lenny unclasped her bra. He slid the button-up from his shoulders and pulled the soft white undershirt over his head as she let the straps of her bra slide down her arms and off her body.

His arousal was evident, pressing against her leg through his pants. Lenny pulled Midge to him, their bare chests pressing against each other as they kissed heatedly, their mouths panting. She couldn’t help but grind down onto his lap, and he cursed against her lips, dipping his head down to take a nipple into his mouth. Midge arched her back as she moaned, his tongue teasing her as it flicked over the sensitive bud, occasionally drawing wet circles, and driving her completely crazy when it was replaced by his firm, yet gentle, sucking.

“Lenny, Lenny, _please_ …”

Lenny hummed, the vibration of his mouth eliciting a hiss from hers, and offered the same pleasurable torment to her other nipple as he reached down to slip off Midge’s underwear. She pressed his shoulders down so that he lay onto the mattress, let the rest of her undergarments join her clothing on the bedroom floor, and straddled Lenny’s waist.

“You are so gorgeous, I can’t fucking believe it,” Lenny sighed, sitting up on his elbows to take in the sight of her.

Midge’s face turned slightly as she blushed. “You’ve already got me here, naked, _and_ on top of you. You don’t have to compliment me anymore,” she teased.

He pulled her down to him and kissed her lips tenderly as he flipped her so that he was on top. Then with the sexiest look Midge had ever seen, he moved his kisses downward.

“No, I should be worshipping you.”

Lenny’s mouth trailed down between her breasts, over her delicate stomach, to her thighs, kissing the inside of them while she writhed beneath him. His hand, with feathery lightness, glided up from her knee to her hip. She shivered against the delicate movement, watching as his fingers moved down over her sensitive skin, and hovered over her clit. Midge learned the understanding of death by anticipation, her breath trapped in her chest, until he began rubbing tight circles with his thumb.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she moaned, her head falling back into the bed.

She could have settled for that, really she could have, but Lenny decided to kill her all over again by replacing his thumb with his tongue, his hot breath against her core causing her to writhe against his mouth. His left arm laid across her hips, leaving her trapped in this perfect position. Midge fisted the sheets beneath her as Lenny began to suck her clit, crying out obscenities. The glorious warmth built inside her, her hips thrusting upward for release. God, she needed it so badly.

And then this man, this man who just showed up in her life as if he was always meant to have a place in it, pressed two fingers inside her and with a curse foul enough to get her arrested, Midge fell helpless to the waves of pleasure washing over her. Lenny’s arm held her hips so he could milk her orgasm for all its worth, his mouth relentless until Midge pulled at his hair, calling for mercy.

With a devilish look to her from between her legs, his tongue slid inside her, taking a quick taste of the fruits of his labor before climbing up to her.

“Could you believe I’m speechless?” Midge asked before tilting her neck up and kissing him deeply, tasting herself on his lips. It was intoxicating.

“Could you believe I’m still wearing pants?” He asked. “Excuse me before I completely lose circulation here,” he said, reaching down for his belt.

Midge laughed, her arms reaching for purchase against the mattress to help to no avail. “I’d lend a hand, but now my whole body is Jell-O.”

Lenny freed himself and procured a condom from a bedside drawer before returning to his position above her. However, she plucked it from his hands, setting it aside on the bed within reach.

“I can lend something else, though,” she said breathily, gesturing for Lenny to lie down.

Then she crawled to sit between his legs while he watched in stunned silence before she took his erection into her mouth.

“Fuck, Midge,” he groaned as her lips claimed the tip of his cock and slid down the length of it, her tongue tracing the underside and her hand firmly grasping the base. “I don’t want to sound crass, but I’ve got a few months of pent up sexual tension here and the strong desire to hear you say my name again like it’s a blessing,” Lenny said, each word labored as Midge took the opportunity to suck in her cheeks as she moved her mouth upward.

“Is that so?” Feeling benevolent, she plucked the condom and handed it back to him. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Straddling his hips, Midge waiting until he rolled it on before lowering herself down and taking his length inside her. She moaned as he grabbed her hips, angling them just _so_ , but they remained still, their foreheads pressed together. Lenny looked up to her, that searching gaze boring into her, and with a tightness clutching her chest, all she could do was nod.

They moved slowly, hips rocking together. His hands moved up from her waist to cup her breasts and tease her nipples. When Midge moved a hand to touch his cheek, Lenny grasped it, taking her fingers into his mouth. She ground her hips harder, crying out from pleasure as his teeth grazed her finger pads.

His thrusts became less rhythmic, so Midge rode him deeply, dipping her hips down the base of his shaft and lifting up to tease his sensitive tip but not release him completely. Lenny reached his hand between them, his thumb rubbing frantic circles against her clit. She ground against it, feeling the build of another orgasm pulsing through her.

“God, Midge, you feel so fucking good.”

“Lenny, yes, right _there_ ,” Midge moaned as she spiraled, clenching down onto him.

He cried out, his own orgasm claiming him too, grasping her hips and she rode out the waves until they lay tangled together, spent and satisfied.

After a long moment of comfortable silence save for their winded breathing, Lenny wheezed, “I think I found God again.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Midge said with a content sigh, turning to kiss him soundly. “God may have a sense of humor like a woman’s, but I’m far less forgiving.”

Lenny didn’t immediately respond, his fingers tracing along her bare back between her shoulder blades. His disheveled hair lightened the air around him, made him look younger and softer around the edges, though his eyes held some weight in their depths.

“It’s rude to stare,” he finally murmured into her hair as he dipped his lips down to kiss the crown of her head.

“It just looks like there’s something on your mind,” Midge admitted, nervous that he would think this was a mistake and rescind his declaration from earlier.

His lips curled up, a genuine smile forming and washing away her negative thoughts. “There’s always something on my mind. Right now, it’s whether or not I wait until tomorrow morning to tell you I’m out of coffee.”

Midge pushed up on her forearm to kiss his lips before sighing dramatically as she fell back against the pillow.

“You should wait until tomorrow or else I’ll have to leave at this hour looking debauched, and _then_ what will your neighbors think?”

“That Lenny Bruce either did something right… or can now afford the classy hookers.”

Pinching his arm playfully, Midge cuddled against him. “That’s funny. You think you could afford my tricks.”

“I could do this for hours, Mrs. Maisel,” Lenny said, settling into a comfortable position. Off her bemused look, he added “The back-and-forth, that is.”

“Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?” She asked, her voice trailing off. Entwining her fingers with his, her eyes slipped shut.

“Yeah, it does.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's been 3 years (no really) since I've written any fic, and then *that* episode of TMMM ruined my life completely and drew me back in. I'm sure I've got a few more for this pairing still in me, because holy hell, do I have a feeling this show will break my heart and this ship whenever we get a season 4. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Always appreciate your feedback!


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